


Respite

by theladyscribe



Category: Scooby Doo - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Road Trips, liminal spaces
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-19 11:12:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12409239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/pseuds/theladyscribe
Summary: Daphne makes a late night pit stop.





	Respite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OzQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzQueen/gifts).



The highway is quiet tonight, not many cars traveling in either direction along I-94. Daphne is at the wheel, the rest of the crew snoring in the back. They've been on the road for two nights now, heading west after the disaster that was the killer in the Pine Barrens. It'd be nice if they could lick their wounds somewhere sunny, maybe with a beach, Daphne thinks, but they're low on cash. Shaggy has a lead on a possible cowboy haunting in Missoula, so Missoula it is.

The van's fuel gauge ticks below a quarter tank, so Daphne pulls off at the next service station that advertises diesel. She kills the engine and glances back at the rest of the gang. Scooby whuffles a little in his sleep, dreaming doggy dreams, but they're all out cold. Shaggy leans against the window, and Velma is tucked close to him, her bandaged arm in its sling. They'll need to clean and rebandage it when she's awake. Fred is asleep on the floor, tangled in a sleeping bag — he claims it's more comfortable than on the seats, but Daphne has her doubts.

She climbs out of the cab, careful not to let the door slam behind her.

It's well past midnight now, the station empty except a couple rigs bunked down for the night. The clerk is more interested in his late night reruns than Daphne when she comes in to get the pump turned on. She buys a pack of cigarettes and heads back outside to smoke while the pump runs.

The wind has picked up, a sharp counterpoint to the muggy heat of the evening. She can hear coyotes yipping in the distance, and it sends a chill down her spine. It'll be a while before animals howling won't give her nightmares. Daphne prides herself on being unflappable — it's necessary, in their line of work — but New Jersey nearly killed all of them. They're lucky they got out with as few injuries as they did.

It takes her a couple of tries to get her cigarette lit — the fault of the wind and not her shaking hands, of course.

Daphne takes a drag and blows out the smoke, staring into the dark beyond the buzzing lights of the station. If she squints, she can still see the late night glow of Jamestown behind them, a dull red-purple of sulphur lights. The view to the west is nothing but blackness dotted with stars, eerie in its own way.

Daphne jumps when she hears the pump stop, and she drops her cigarette. She crushes it under her foot before heading back across the parking lot.

Fred is awake when she climbs back in the van. "Where are we?" he asks, leaning over the console.

"About a hundred miles past Fargo. Should be to Missoula sometime tomorrow evening. You need a toilet before we pull out of here? Next one won't be until the city, but I didn't want to wake anybody."

"I'm good," Fred says. "You want me to drive?"

Daphne shakes her head. "I'm good for another few hours."

He doesn't press, but he does climb over the console and settle into the passenger seat. "Let me know when you want me to take over."

"Will do." Daphne turns the key and releases the clutch, pulling out of the station without looking back.


End file.
